Lost Little Girl of the Garden
by Gaze of Providence
Summary: There is a single person who knows of her existence. He is the last person in the entire city to relate in magic pen and paper, the existence of a person who has now been erased in the city records. Warning: Disturbing psyche ahead.
1. Chapter 1

**Lost Little Girl of the Garden**

* * *

**1**

I'll tell you now that whatever I am telling you in this piece of paper is the truth. Even though I am locked up in here without my consent, and my mental instability, I know and I have seen the truth. That is the reason they shackled me in chains and confined me these dungeons.

I am restating this to you, this is the truth, and it did indeed occur. Of who I am, it matters not, for my days in Academy City is numbered, and I've heard that a Kihara, that infamous family of the darkness of the city, will come to take care of my person, which I could only assume that they will render my erasure from the records of Academy City, just like _that girl_, permanent. How I could render this story to you in this piece of paper is by all means and definition beyond the concept of Personal Reality, and is not my own power, and as a student of the city, I was mocking at first of its existence, though now I have seen the light, even though I can scarcely tell on how the mechanisms of my story being written and being channeled to someone in this city at random, I have begun to trust it, my only way to get the truth out, this magic paper and pen given to me by an olive skinned man with an air of royalty surrounding him.

Now, to the matter at hand, although, no one seems to recall, a certain girl who lived within the closely kept confines of the beautiful School Garden, and attended the prestigious Tokiwadai Middle School, by the name of Kaname Sora, once _existed_. I say once, because all known records of her and of her existence, on paper or in the mind of the people she had all contacted within the city have been thoroughly expunged, and though I am digressing here, I fear that I am the last one who knows of her. And though people whom I knew tell me no such person ever lived in that area and in that school, I am adamant of my beliefs. They call me crazy, but she did exist. I know she did, because I have met her—once.

To begin my tale, it is required that I need an introduction. I'd like to talk about that girl who they insist isn't real. Kaname Sora was a 13-year-old middleschooler enrolled in Tokiwadai Middle School. She is a scholar and by all means one of those success stories that fill the pamphlets of Academy City's propaganda, the poster girl of which is the Railgun of course, as she was a Level 0 that had managed to "climb up the Leveling Ladder", so to speak, becoming a Level 3 Telepathic esper. And though her level and ability is not in anyway unique or unusual, her inspiring story made her a darling of Academy City's propaganda. She was a Child Error, which made her story even more interesting to those who favor romances of hard work and determination, in short, the lowest denominator. Looking back now, it is unknown how the have managed to hide and erase her existence from the city, a _damnation memoriae_, as she was somewhat a media darling, though not to the extent of the Railgun, though since this is the highly advanced Academy City I'm sure there is some incredibly contrived method whither they can actually erase an entire person's exist unlike the tyrants and dictators of the empires of old.

Of her appearance, she was a girl with dark brown hair and eyes. Her figure was that of a typical middleschooler, utterly undeveloped in certain areas, but she had her charm. Her fair skin still retained the wonderful smoothness of a child, and so was her body who was still unbetrayed by the passage of Time. A petite girl, but was still retained the signs of womanhood. There was a certain allure in her childishness. (Perhaps—now that I've regret it—that if she didn't take the form of a delicate nymph that was birthed by all the beauties of the untainted earth, perhaps I could be saved from this damnation of memory, perhaps she would still be remembered, though, that alone is not to be blamed.)

In spite her looks and of her social position, both as a representative of Academy City's success, overshadowed alone by the Railgun, and as a student of Tokiwadai Middle School, Kaname led an extremely unremarkable life. She was not gifted in talents, but only had the sense of hard work, and as such she had wonderful greats and results in her System Scans. At this point, seeing no need to work further to that of a Level 4, she remained relatively static with her existence, not doing anything at all remarkable with her powers, with academic studies, or with extracurricular activities. This was exacerbated by her appearance, as in although she was not ugly, she did particularly stand out with her peers, who had all the conveniences of modern cosmetics at their grasp. People who are aware of her position, will not recognize completely, as her position as a representative is extremely downplayed to that of the Railgun, and would three glances at her to make sure of her appearance even if they did recognize her. Basically, her appearance blended too much with the other residents of that School Garden. (Perhaps, she would be saved now if the many people that were in that walled garden of European aesthetics could've recognized her. Perhaps, if they noticed her walking in strange hours and in queer places, then she would have not to deal with these—I would not have to deal with this situation. Such a folly of thinking, and I don't like to think about it. I apologize to her and to the reader for my thinking of such foolishness. That wonderful young girl should not be the one at fault here; this was just a terrible twist of fate.)

However, despite her unremarkable current life and appearance, there was something that was unique to that lovely young girl that I find quite endearing (even perhaps what had lead to her untimely and saddening demise), her love of long walks in the cobblestone streets of the walled European facsimile.


	2. Chapter 2

**2**

(From here on, I will be apologizing for compromising my tale with errors, as my hour grows short, and the previous pages were prepared well in advance in my mind before being put down on paper.)

As I have said, Kaname Sora, that dainty and petite youth that the city insists is not real, and I (in turn) to insist is real in every fiber of my and her being, loved to walk, and it was apparent upon her strong ankles and legs, in spite of her lithe figure. Kaname, Kaname, I cannot forget that name of hers, if you only stayed lonesome in your high tower of your dorms, or remained within the courts of your school and drank afternoon tea with your red lips, along with your friends, you may have been spare. But I do not regret anymore of what had happened to her, only a fleeting wish, a selfish wish of my own, after all, if it not for her long solitary walks, did we not meet? (Perhaps, this punishment of mine is fitting enough, for do I not know much of her? I know much of her in a single glance for I have of course know of her before we met, but what of it is unimportant. What is important is of course how this tale relates the final days of Kaname Sora, and my just though somewhat cruel and unusual punishment.)

And so in the morn, she walked alone, that young girl. Upon the cobblestone walks of the School Garden, and of asphalt as well, wearing her PE uniform that hugged tightly upon her skin, wet with her sweat, and shewed the contours and form of her body. And if not for the fact that she was alone and that only young women are allowed inside of that garden (though men can be found they are of course employees of shops and stores and are of course scarce at best), men would most likely turn their gaze towards them, as did I, only for a moment due to the sensual affect of a body in heat due to excursion. Though it is only but for a moment of course, as I have stated already that she was of an unremarkable specimen, though only endearing in certain circles.

After that short [excercise] walk, viewing the facsimile architecture of the area, with its peaked roofs, [barriered] flanked with parapets at the eaves and supported by brackets on the side, which covered the Gothic-esque establishments, with its sash windows that had little garden balconies affixed upon the bottoms, and colorful awnings affixed at the top. Kaname Sora loved the Gothic revival architecture that reminded her of old romance stories (she loved reading real novels unlike the hogwash of light novels that the youths of this city), whither nature triumphs over progress, and nature is above science, a queer taste for someone that is an attendee of Tokiwadai Middle School, and one of the best examples of the triumph of science. (Perhaps she was sick of all the attention that has gathered around her? Even though her light is ablaze and faded under the light of the Railgun, perhaps even a little of such things sickened and tired her, she was, of course, a young beautiful girl with queer but quaint tastes.) It was endearing though, how she would gaze long upon those towering steeples and admire the masonry impostor sculptures have made, (I regret that she may have wanted to see the real thing, but now that desire will never come again) and of the old-looking streets that seem to hide some antediluvian secret that she wants to find. Such a queer trait for a girl of her age and of her race, but beautiful as she is, and her sensitivity is as delicate as the warmth of her skin. It is something that I can wholly emphasize.

Yes, she loved walking in the mornings, but not in the noon, or of the afternoon, but she loved walking in the sunset and of the twilight, and as do I (love the sunset and the sunrise.) And within that darkness her modest figure could not be, in any normal person's eyes who do not look out for her, would disappear into it. Something, I should note, which she meant to do, she wanted to look upon the facades of those buildings in the glow of the blazing sunset and later, in the warmth of the yellow light posts of black wrought metal, like a child viewing fireflies in the dark. Such is a child like her, but it wasn't for that endearing, child-like nature (which I could understand, endear, and establish as something commended for her in this time and age) she wouldn't be gone now, and that the city would not insist that she does not, cannot, has never, and will never exist.


	3. Chapter 3

**3**

[Of course,] Kaname was a child, a girl whose heart was susceptible to the wiles of youth. Brash and naïve, Kaname was interested into the urban legends that have become famous in the city. ([Though] I find it quite charming as well, [al]though I am more focused on aged folklore, which is incredibly scarce in this advance city.) If she were not walking around that vast enclosed European-styled area, or within the sanctity of her alma mater's facilities, she would go about in the thoroughfares and in the shops adjacent to them, and rest and wait for strange things that the plebeians would whisper under their breaths.

One fine afternoon like any other afternoon, before the sun is cut by the horizon and bleeds forth its colors upon the late summer sky, before Kaname started her long though peaceful trek towards the safety of her dorms, Kaname came upon a rumor in a quaint little teashop. The rumor tells of the mysterious Imaginary Number District materializing at a certain location, an abandoned flower nursery, in far-off and hidden courts and alleyways within the area, and at the hour of the Angelus in Ecclesiastical traditions. What happens after the Imaginary Number District materializes, none can say for surely. I know that it is false, and even Kaname, who partook on the search and finding of that hidden away nursery found none save that place and the flowers and shrubs that have gone off and grown wild after its abandonment by the city and of her sad [and heartbreaking] demise. But, despite the many falsehoods that come from tongue of the common and dumb folk, Kaname was enticed by the mysterious nursery, and the unknowable event that might occur in that secret place, where only the determined and dreamy dared to look. (Perhaps she looked for angels in a city of ironmen?) And did I not say beforehand that Kaname had all this within her heart? It was a quality of utter uniqueness that is of her own, something that is not at all unremarkable in today's standards.[, and of it, I find wonderfully striking for her.]

And so, with that wonderful body full of energy, and a mind full of wonder and determination, Kaname Sora set out to find that secret nursery, She took a detour away from the usual paths and passageways she usually passed by, for the walk that would eventually led to her saddening [heartbreaking] demise. As she wandered and roamed about in more ancient and forgotten parts of that area, the sun began to give out a light of bright yellow and curfew for the students of that area would come soon now. But, she did not heed these concerns, for her mind was filled with the romantic idealizations of beauty and charms, of things that are not of this world, but are wholly different and can never be truly understood. As she walked to the west of the area, the setting sun came upon her dreamy eyes, and perhaps in her mind, she saw a bygone time for a moment, whither these parts were wild and un disturbed by human hands and feet, of a time when one looks far you can only imagine of things that were beyond the fields we know.

Then she came upon a seemingly ancient alleyway, dirt-ridden and unmaintained by the city. It was the first things, she saw, that were not yet of her knowing, something that her many walks have yet to behold. The alleyway was unlit as it had no need for lighting, and it was narrow, as it had no need for space. It was abandoned, as it had no need for people, as such it had no need for both light and space. It alone stood in many uncountable years, and Kaname came upon its dirty and filthy [prescence] presence as if seeing a diamond covered in coal. And so, Kaname entered that narrow aperture, and as she moved towards the other the end, the narrow passage became even narrower, until she could only walk side to side. She tried to squeeze through that red-bricked passage that the years have not been kind to, and her uniform, and her smooth face, from the cheek to the chin, and from the eyes to the tip of his nose was made filthy. The skin of her legs has darkened due to the dust and the filth, hiding away its tenderness from the undeserving eyes of light and the sky. And with her inching away, her eyes showed the hypnotic fire of her desires. They were plain eyes but I can still see it until now, and I kept it even my heart of the only time we have spent together—the time we have met. And so she was transformed into a hidden beauty, just is the place around and of her destination have become a hidden.

Finally, she popped out into an abandoned court, whither the grass wild and the tessellations of the floor tiles have been broken by weird roots and decay. The entire court was ceilinged by glass that was fixed and kept in place by metal wrought into spirals and vines. There were cracks in the glass, but they were relatively unscathed, save for the dirt and various leaves that were blown upon it. It was dark there, as the light of the sunset could penetrated only a little of the dirt that have covered the glass. And yet, there was a certain ethereal peacefulness that seeped into the silence that was the abandoned court, and as the orange light of the sun slowly turned purple, Kaname could not stay a bit longer to admire the ancient and forgotten place. She turned her attention towards the little light that made a winding path upon the floor, like the ray of light making a path unto the sand when one opens their eyes in the sea's waters.

She continued forward and came upon another path, where the tiles' tessellations were less elaborate in the court. She came forth into a dark alleyway following that simple patterned pathway, hastening her steps as a queer feeling invaded the smooth and petite contours of her back—as if she was being gazed for nigh all directions.[it is harmless I can attest] There, she came upon the purple light of the sunset nearing the twilight before the dusk peer forth from the small aperture, and quickly, she ran towards it. There she saw an Arcadian wilderness, and there she awaited her end.


	4. Chapter 4

**4**

It was dark, and purple twilight has covered that abandoned path that led to that solitary Arcadian wilderness, whither the fireflies danced gaily around rare flowers and Pan played with nymphs and dryads, welcoming Kaname Sora into the fold of the fairies and daemons of yore.

She breathed in the seemingly ancient air, as the humidity of a late summer evening gave rise to a queer mist that made the phosphorescent dance of the fireflies a mysterious persona, and she was the spotlight, the ballerina of an old play that only the aged arbors were privy since immemorial years. And she began to forget the time of the Angelus, and of the Imaginary Number District that should come before her. She forgot the urban legend that brought her to paths less traveled, to the stagnant and tight labyrinthine paths, to the noisome court, and finally to the garden that Time took away from Nature and have forgotten and left to grow in the will of elvish dreams. She forgot the queer and sinister feeling she felt before

She was such a child, she danced in those wild flowers that she rarely saw that were among the tall grasses and in her summer ballet, and the fireflies followed a motion that made them look like the supporting characters. And in that gay dance, she was like a pagan princess, and in her primal feelings, her body fell as well. And she began to sweat, wetting her clothes, and exposing the skin that the white cloth of her uniform covered. She was like Ophelia, lost in mind, and lost in path in the wilderness.

And then she fell supine upon the grass [but she should have not, why does such a child with such a form and in such a position fall so vulnerable?] and gaze upon the sky and saw the single light of Venus grow brightly before her. And she, feeling nothing burdening her, closed her eyes and for a moment, left the waking world.

And then she was woken [gently] from her slumber, and she was told [too] to be touched [gently and lovingly], but she screamed and no one answered her. ███ And in her screams were muffled until silence. And she was █████████ del ███████████ █████ █████ ██████ █ ███ touched all over her body, from messy hair, to red cheeks, to her delicate neck and her cute collarbones, to her supple breasts, to her navel, to her soft buttocks, to her smooth thighs, and to the warmth of her █████. (I [apologiuzi] apologize for that, there are things that should not be known by simple minds, for I know not who shall receive this paper, lest disgust will occupy the mind.)

Nevertheless she screamed as she was touch inside and █████, and the glow of her eyes has become no more, and in fear [and in regret and care] she was touched only once, and she was left to the side (I'm sorry the details become scarce here), if I can recall correctly.

But she was found a few days later in an often empty alleyway by two Tokiwadai girls from the swim team, and under the summer heat her body could no longer retain that delicate beauty of hers, even more so, as they say that she was not fully of herself, as her originally august mien was in pieces and strewn upon the side of that place.

The way she was kept in secret and they brought auditors to erase all traces of her in physical and electronic records, and they have brought the Mind Hounds, like the Queen, to erase all traces of her in the conscious and personal records kept in the minds. And her existence was gone from the knowing world.

And soon, they came upon me for knowing her, even though I am innocent. (I am innocent of what they accuse me, but I still know her, and I met her only once) For did I not wholly love every part of her childish, petite, and lovely body? Did I not love her person as well and the similarities between us, despite the distance of our hearts and status? I cannot recall what have happened, for I have met her once, and I have filled the latter parts of this story with the things they accuse me. (Such puerile anecdotes and ignoble imaginations from destitute minds.)

Now I've seen a little girl come hither to check my cell from time to time, stating Kihara this, and Kihara that, and this is "what a Kihara must do". Her childishness reminds me of Kaname Sora, without the personality and dreams. My dear Kaname, Kaname, Kaname Kaname. How I long to be reunited with you. Why did your eyes leave no spirit so soon as we met?

Now I must end this, for I here the stirrings on the outside, and as soon I right the words "end", as the last word of this paper, with this pen, the olive-skinned man said that it would be gone from grasp to parts unknown. I believe him, I believe him, despite this city—it must be love.

Sora, light of my life, fire of my loins. Kaname Sora. I'll tell you now that whatever I am telling you in this piece of paper is the truth. Even though I am locked up in here without my consent, and my mental instability, I know and I have seen the truth. That is the reason they shackled me in chains and confined me these dungeons. Kaname Sora is real, I have met her only once, and I have touched her once and only once. End.


End file.
